


would you like to swing on a star, carry moonbeams home in a jar

by blueblueelectricblue



Series: a star spinning in orbit, lighting up the sky [12]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Diapers, M/M, Non-Sexual Age Play, Wetting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-24
Updated: 2020-01-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:35:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22382683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blueblueelectricblue/pseuds/blueblueelectricblue
Summary: Steve's extended leave is drawing to a close, and he and Bucky are making their way down the West Coast by car before they have to head back home. He hasn't been little in almost two months, but that streak is about to end very, very soon.(Or, Steve and Bucky's Post-Christmas Vacation, only with no Jelly of the Month club, ridiculous outdoor light display, or unsightly RV parked in the driveway.)
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: a star spinning in orbit, lighting up the sky [12]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1304390
Comments: 22
Kudos: 105





	would you like to swing on a star, carry moonbeams home in a jar

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for being so patient with me during this unintentional hiatus! Work and university classes sort of ate my brain for a while there. I hope to start updating more regularly from now on. Just know how much I appreciate each and every one of you who's read, left kudos, or commented on my fics. It always makes my day to see a new kudo or comment!

As far as vacations go, Bucky has to admit that this one has been pretty great so far. Over the past two months, he and Steve have been all over the world, which turns out is pretty relaxing when you _want_ to do it and it isn’t because you have to keep dinosaurs from escaping their failed theme-park island or stop Doctor Doom from trying to take over the world like some kind of demented mask-wearing genetically modified cartoon mouse. Even better, everywhere they’ve gone has been warm. Of course, that was by design — and fortuitous, because a day after they’d left DC for Nassau, a vicious blizzard immediately followed by a polar vortex hit the DMV region. As much as Bucky loves cuddling in bed under flannel sheets with a hot cup of coffee in the mornings, he’s damn glad they decided to forgo winter for the time being.

After the Bahamas, they’d island-hopped for a bit, doing not much other than exploring their surroundings, enjoying the local fare, and swimming and snorkeling in the crystal-clear water that rivals the blue of Steve’s eyes. (They have also christened every single hotel bed they’ve occupied, because what better way is there to find out how comfortable they are?) They’ve even tried scuba diving, but Bucky got too close to a shipwreck and it was _deeply_ unsettling, so they haven’t done it again. There’s just something about seeing objects underwater that shouldn’t be there that freaks him out.

Now they’ve come back to the States, exploring the West Coast by starting in Seattle and working their way down to San Diego in a rental car. Seattle had been lovely, if chilly and (expectedly) rainy, and Portland had been quirky and fun. Today they’ve stopped in Monterey, California, where they’ll stay for a day or two — it’s too late to go to the aquarium today, but Steve and Bucky have decided to go tomorrow. It’s surprisingly warm here too. Not as warm as the Caribbean had been, but certainly pleasant for late February. And it’ll only get warmer as they go south, which will be nice before the rude shock of going back to DC in early March, which might as well be January.

They go for a long walk along the beach before dinner and meander their way back to the hotel after eating. Bucky’s always happy to move around after being in a car for a few hours, and he knows Steve is, too. Of course, Bucky also knows that Steve’s likely already planning his morning run, which he hasn’t given up no matter where they’ve traveled. Which is unsurprising, and gives Bucky a chance to laze about in bed reading the _Washington Post_ or a new book from the library (OverDrive is one of his favorite inventions of the 21st century so far) on his tablet, or flipping through the TV channels, or just going back to sleep.

The only thing that’s been a problem — and it’s not a problem so much as it’s just a tiny niggling thought that’s taken up residence in the back of his brain — is that Steve hasn’t been little since Christmas. He’s slipped and called Bucky “Daddy” once or twice, and Bucky’s definitely caught him sucking his thumb in his sleep a couple of times, but other than that? Nothing. They’d even planned for it, bringing along the nondescript black duffel bag, but so far it’s stayed closed, and Steve’s kindly but firmly shut down any and all suggestions regarding the subject.

It’s true that without the external pressure of being Captain America and all that comes with it (particularly, needing to be “on” at all times outside of his own apartment), Steve’s mental health has been markedly improved. It’s great to see Steve actually relaxing for once instead of stalking around like a stressed-out lion and dropping into headspace at the slightest provocation, but on the other hand, Bucky misses being needed like that. Which is totally selfish of Bucky, he’s aware, but — it’s the one part of their relationship that’s for them and for them only, the one part of Steve that Bucky doesn’t have to share with the rest of the world. Which isn’t to say that everything has been smooth sailing; Steve and Bucky both have their challenges and their not-so-great days, but they’ve been a lot less frequent and a lot easier to work through. Although Bucky does have to wonder if they’re going to fall back into the same pattern as before once Steve resumes his duties, loath as he is to let the thought enter his head.

It starts to rain on their walk back to the hotel, not enough to need an umbrella but enough that they’re damp by the time they get into their room.

“Ugh, gross,” Steve complains as he shucks off his jacket, hanging it up over the shower curtain rod so it can drip into the tub. “I hope it’s not gonna be like this the whole time.”

“Whine, whine, whine,” Bucky answers with a grin. “You’ve survived worse.”

“Yeah, I know, but I still don’t have to _like_ it.”

“We’re gonna be inside for almost the whole day tomorrow,” Bucky points out.

“Yeah, that’s true.” Steve flops down on the bed.

“Is it comfortable?”

“I guess so.”

“You wanna test it out and make sure it is?”

It is.

The next morning is significantly colder, but at least it’s sunny enough to make the bay sparkle as Bucky and Steve make their way from the hotel to the aquarium via Cannery Row. It’s only six blocks, and they can walk along the waterfront. It’s amazing, really, how different the Pacific Ocean can look from one point on the West Coast to another, Bucky reflects. Steve slips his left hand inside Bucky’s right hand as they wait to cross an intersection, and the warmth of their palms meeting somehow feels like the first time all over again.

(Not that Bucky can actually _remember_ the first time, thanks to those pesky memories HYDRA had managed to burn out of his brain, but he imagines that it must have felt like this.)

Even though it’s a Tuesday, they’re surprised to find that there’s a fairly long line at the ticket booth — no school groups, though, thankfully. It’s always awkward when school groups recognize Steve in public, because it throws their itinerary off as much as it does Steve’s They’re less surprised to find that the aquarium’s interior is even more crowded, but Steve and Bucky have the benefit of being tall enough to see pretty much anything they want without much difficulty.

“Do we have a plan?” Steve wants to know.

“Uh. Walk around? Stop and look at stuff?”

“I just meant, is there anything you want to see first?” Steve steers them into a relatively calm corner of the lobby and shakes open the map he’d accepted from the cheerful ticket seller. “Here, let’s take a look at the layout.”

“I don’t care about anything else as long as I get to see some sharks,” Bucky announces, peering over his shoulder.

“Oka—”

“And jellyfish. I forgot about those.”

“All—”

“Oh shit, they’ve got _penguins_?”

“ _Bucky_.”

“What?” Bucky stares at him in a perfect facsimile of innocence, all wide blue eyes and shrugged shoulders.

“You are the _worst_ sometimes, you know that?”

Bucky can’t help himself and starts laughing, unable to keep up the act for very long. “Is that any way to talk to the man who just paid for your ticket?”

Steve punches him in the arm. However, because it is Bucky’s metal arm, it hurts, and he says some very rude words unbecoming of a superhero under his breath.

“That’s a new one,” Bucky comments once the tirade has exhausted itself.

“I got it from Rhodey on that mission in Madripoor,” Steve admits.

“I’m gonna have to incorporate that into my lexicon.” Bucky grins. “Anyway. Why don’t we start at the aviary and just work our way to the other side, then go upstairs?”

“Sounds good to me.”

The Monterey Bay Aquarium does indeed have sharks, jellyfish, and penguins. It also has sea otters, spiny urchins, turtles, stingrays, a veritable busload of fish, and altogether too many multi-tentacled beings for Bucky’s liking. The kelp forest exhibit is beautiful, though, and Bucky is delighted that they make it in time to see the diver who hand-feeds the sharks and fish contained within at the scheduled 11:30 presentation.

“Steve, can we get a leopard shark for the apartment?” Bucky asks. “I think we could fit in a tank if we knock down like three walls.”

Steve just smiles and shakes his head, letting Bucky take the lead as they head upstairs to see the penguins. He’s gotten quieter as the morning has turned into afternoon, but because he seems to be having a good enough time, Bucky doesn’t ask about it or even really give it much more thought beyond that.

This, of course, turns out to be a _major_ fuck-up.

Bucky turns around to point out a particularly hilarious puffin to Steve, but Steve isn’t there. He’d probably told Bucky he was heading for the bathroom while Bucky was wrapped up in watching a jellyfish blob on by and just didn’t hear him, so Bucky waits for a few minutes.

A few minutes turns into five minutes; five minutes turn into ten minutes.

 _Hey, where are you? I’m still at the Open Sea exhibit,_ Bucky texts.

Another five minutes pass by, so he texts again: _Did you fall in or something?_

After yet another five-minute stretch of silence, Bucky calls him, frowning when it doesn’t go through — he realizes, too late, that his phone only has one bar, and that’s probably why Steve isn’t answering. And his texts haven’t been sent, either. Reception inside the aquarium must be too weak, especially with so many other people trying to use the network. Out of options, he decides to start looking. Unfortunately, this turns out to be a much harder task than he’d first assumed, because Steve’s ability to blend into a crowd has vastly improved since his and Natasha’s Apple Store adventure at the Pentagon City Mall.

He finally finds Steve on the opposite side of the second floor by the elevator, nearly flattened against the wall and looking very much like a deer caught in the headlights of a ridiculously huge SUV.

“Have you been here this whole time?” Bucky asks softly, grateful that they both have super-soldier hearing and can pitch their voices to the barest of whispers if need be.

Steve nods and opens his mouth as if to speak, but instead he inhales a huge gulp of air, and Bucky realizes that he’s trembling all over as if he’s caught a sudden chill, even though it’s warm in here.

“What’s wrong?”

Steve shakes his head.

“Did something happen?”

Steve nods again.

“Are you hurt?”

Another head-shake.

“Do you want to go and sit down somewhere quiet for a little while?” Bucky asks.

A nod, and when Bucky extends his hand, Steve grabs it like he’s a drowning man and Bucky’s a life ring. They find a quiet corner of the quick-service café, not as busy now after the lunch rush, and still Steve doesn’t let go of his hand even when they sit down. Bucky runs him through the breathing exercises they both use when the anxiety hits until Steve’s finally calm enough to talk again, although he’s still a bit shaky.

“M'sorry,” Steve whispers. “Shouldn’t’ve left.”

“It’s okay, I was just worried when I couldn’t get hold of you.”

“Wanted to see the penguins again.” Even though he’s talking at a low volume, Bucky recognizes this cadence.

“That’s all right, Stevie. No harm, no foul.” Bucky smiles at him reassuringly. “But I know that isn’t the only thing bothering you. What’s up?”

“I got _seen_.”

“You mean someone recognized you?”

Steve nods, misery radiating from every pore. “Family. I hadda talk to them a lot. An’ then I couldn’t find you an’ it was scary.”

Bucky pulls him close for a hug. “You want to stay or head back to the hotel? It’s up to you.”

“Hotel,” Steve says in a small, defeated voice. “M’sorry.”

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

“But I ruined th’ day.”

“No, you didn’t,” Bucky tells him kindly but firmly. “We’ve already seen pretty much everything we wanted to see, and it’s never, ever bad to tell me that you need a break.”

Steve lifts his head to peek up at him. “Sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure. I’m one hundred percent sure, as a matter of fact.” Bucky brushes Steve’s hair off his forehead and pauses for dramatic effect. “No, I’m one _thousand_ percent sure. Or is it one million percent sure?”

That elicits a giggle, which Bucky had intended all along. “One billion?” he suggests.

“You know, that sounds right. I am one billion percent sure that it is okay. We can watch some TV and play games and have a nap—” seeing the mutinous expression on Steve’s face, he adds, “ _Maybe_ a nap; let’s see how we feel. And we can order dinner if we don’t feel up to going back out again. How about that?”

“Yuh-huh.” Steve goes slightly pink and he whispers, “Want my blankie, Daddy.”

“Then it’s a really good thing we brought it along with us, isn’t it?” Bucky smiles.

Steve nods. He hasn’t so much as unzipped the bag, which Bucky had packed, and so he doesn’t know about the new coloring books or fire station Lego set (complete with a firetruck), so that’ll be a fun surprise.

“Let’s head on back,” he tells Steve, but before they exit the aquarium, Bucky steers him into the men’s room.

“Don’t hafta go,” Steve hisses under his breath when he sees the direction they’re headed in.

“Yes, you do.”

“ _Don’t_.”

“Well, I do, so you might as well try.”

Steve huffs, but he’s also acutely conscious of the fact that they’re in public, so he acquiesces rather than making the scene he would at home. As Bucky had expected, he did in fact have to go. Steve almost _always_ gives him pushback on this when he’s little.

They walk hand-in-hand back to the hotel, taking no small amount of pleasure in the weather, which has warmed up considerably under the bright winter sun. The tension in Steve’s shoulders melts away almost as soon as they shut the door to their room behind them.

Bucky lets go of Steve’s hand so he can grab the duffel bag from behind the small table in the corner and sets it on the bed. “All yours, kiddo.”

Steve unzips it so quickly that it’s a miracle the zipper doesn’t come flying off, and the first thing he sees is his blanket. He cries out happily and hugs it to himself, burying his face in the soft fabric and running his thumbs over its satin edge. Not for the first time, Bucky wishes he had some of Steve’s artistic ability, because this is _adorable as fuck_.

“Why don’t you pick out some pajamas to wear?” Bucky suggests.

“But s’ daytime,” Steve points out.

“Yeah, but it’s comfy, right?” Also, getting Steve into a diaper will definitely put him much more firmly in headspace.

“Yeah.” Steve starts rummaging around and stumbles on the Lego set first. “Oh!” he squeals in delight.

“You like it?”

“Yuh-huh. _Lots_.” Steve’s grin mirrors Bucky’s own.

“That’s not all. Keep looking, Stevie.”

Steve finds the new coloring books — one featuring dinosaurs and the other featuring the Justice League — and a brand-new 64-piece set of crayons in no time flat. “Superman!” he enthuses, showing Bucky a page.

“Yeah, I see. There’s also Wonder Woman, and the Flash, and the Green Lantern, and Batman,” Bucky tells him.

Steve sets everything down (except his blanket, of course) to fling his arms around Bucky, who’s fortunately prepared for that. “Daddy, _thank you_ ,” he breathes into Bucky’s neck.

Bucky gives him a squeeze. “You’re very welcome, lovebug. Why don’t we get comfy and then you can decide what you’d like to do first?”

Steve nods vigorously.

“Pick out what you want to wear and I’ll help you, okay?”

Steve doesn’t need to be told twice, rummaging until he finds his lion kigurumi. “Wanna wear this, Daddy.”

“Good choice. Now what should go underneath it, a pull-up or a diaper?”

“Neither,” he announces. “M’big.”

“Try again, kiddo.” Bucky has to hide a smile.

Steve scowls. “M’not a _baby_.”

“I agree,” Bucky tells him, “you aren’t a baby. But you still need to wear protection.”

“Don’t need ‘tection,” he insists. “ _Big._ ”

“Steve.”

“Daddy.”

“If you don’t choose, I’m gonna choose for you.”

Steve gasps in outrage. “No!”

“Then make your choice now, please.”

He deploys what is clearly meant to be a tactical long-suffering sigh that has absolutely no effect on Bucky whatsoever, because Bucky knows that once Steve’s diapered and cozy in his onesie, it’ll be a whole different story. Steve makes a production out of his decision until Bucky taps at the watch on his wrist, and with a huff, he presents Bucky with a zoo animal-printed diaper.

“Great choice, kiddo,” Bucky praises him. “Can you lie down on the bed for me?”

“Yuh-huh.”

To Steve’s credit, he doesn’t squirm or go rigid or complain during the diapering process, and he actively helps Bucky get the kigurumi on. By the time it’s all said and done, he’s curled up in a nest of pillows with his blanket in his arms and a pacifier planted firmly in his mouth. Bucky turns on the TV and flicks through the channels until he sees Bob Ross on PBS and settles on that because he and Steve both like watching him paint. Today’s episode involves mountains at sunset, apparently. Bucky glances at it every so often as he changes into a pair of soft flannel pajama pants and a long-sleeved thermal shirt, then joins Steve on the bed. Steve immediately scoots over so that they can cuddle, and they don’t talk again until the end credits roll.

“Daddy?” Steve says.

“Yeah, bug?”

“Do we _hafta_ go home next week?”

Bucky blinks a few times in surprise. Normally, Steve’s impatient to get back into the field after he’s been away from it, and this is the longest stretch by far, to his knowledge. Granted, they haven’t really talked about it — Bucky had banned any and all Avengers-related work talk in the first week of their vacation — but he hasn’t had much reason to assume otherwise.

“Is there something else you wanted to do first?” Bucky asks carefully.

Steve shakes his head. “No. Jus’…”

After thirty seconds or so, Bucky prompts him. “Just what, Stevie?”

His bright blue eyes are suddenly glassy with unshed tears. “Don’ wanna say.”

“You can tell me anything, you know that.” Bucky gives him a squeeze.

“I…” Steve takes a deep breath. “M’not ready, Daddy.”

“Not ready to go home yet, or not ready to be Captain America yet?”

Steve holds up two fingers.

Bucky thinks about that for a moment before he speaks again. “Being Captain America is a very big job, and it’s a very big job that you’ve been doing for a long time. It’s normal to need a break from big jobs. And you know what?”

Steve makes a soft quizzical noise.

“The Avengers have been doing just fine without you so far, and I think they could stand to do without you for a little while longer. What do you think?”

Steve nods, then burrows into Bucky’s lap for comfort. “Think s’good.”

“Then tomorrow we’ll talk to Tony and Sam and Natasha about extending our vacation for two more weeks.”

“Where we go, Daddy?”

“Anywhere you want, baby.” Bucky drops a kiss on the top of his head.

“’Kay.”

They stay like that for a few minutes.

“You want to try out the Lego set?” Bucky asks.

“Too hard today. Color?”

“Sure thing.”

He reaches for the coloring books and crayons that Bucky had set aside on the nightstand and hands them to Steve before rearranging them so that Steve can sit between his legs and lean back against Bucky while he colors. Bucky watches the next Bob Ross episode and then switches to the four o’clock local news broadcast because it’s too awkward to do anything on his tablet like this, and he likes Steve’s warm weight against his body too much to break away. By the end of the news, Steve’s completed a stegosaurus and half a diplodocus, and he’s rubbing his eyes.

“How about a nap?” Bucky suggests.

“No nap, Daddy,” Steve answers through failing to stifle a yawn.

“Just for a little bit, and I’ll lie down with you.”

Steve grumbles sleepily but gets under the covers, popping in his pacifier once more. He’s out like a light within a minute of his head hitting the pillow, and Bucky cuddles with him for some time before getting out his tablet to continue his read of _Consider the Fork_ , a book about the evolution of cooking and cooking tools throughout history. It is very much up his alley, and time flies by as he goes from chapter to chapter. Before he realizes it, the sun has set and Bucky knows he should wake Steve soon so they can figure out dinner before Steve gets hangry.

“Hey, kiddo,” he says, laying a gentle hand on Steve’s arm and leaning back a bit. They’ve spent a lot of time apologizing to each other for startle-reflex punches to the face when being awoken.

Steve cracks an eye open and smiles around his pacifier, which Bucky had clipped to the hood of his kigurumi while he slept to avoid losing it. “Hi,” he says sweetly.

“Good nap?”

“Yuh huh.”

“Ready to order some food?”

Steve nods vigorously now.

“I was thinking pizza, unless there’s something else you want.”

Steve’s eyes light up and he fairly bounces as he sits up. “Pizza! Pizza, Daddy! Want pizza!”

Bucky laughs. “Okay, pizza coming right up. The usual?”

“Yeah!” And right afterward, as if he’s just remembered, which he probably has, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. You want to keep working on your coloring book while we wait?” Bucky asks, already bringing up GrubHub on his tablet to find the nearest pizzeria. He could just about order their usual pizzas in his sleep, he thinks.

“Please?”

“Ask and you shall receive.”

Bucky hands him the crayons and book again, and soon Steve’s humming away as he colors. Bucky puts the TV back on after the order goes through and immediately finds _Jeopardy_. He loves this damn game show — it’s been such a great way to learn bits of trivia about stuff he missed in the 20th century, and he frequently writes down the bits he wants to know more about, because if he looks them up while the show is on he gets sucked into a Wikipedia wormhole and then he misses the rest of it.

“Soon, Daddy?” Steve asks, putting the final touches on his diplodocus and then reaching for the Justice League coloring book.

Bucky checks the app. “Five minutes, Stevie.”

Steve nods, flipping through the book until he finds a drawing of Superman. He works on that until Bucky answers the knock on the door and returns to the bed with three piping-hot pizzas, at which point he sets it aside and dives in eagerly without waiting for Bucky to get settled or come back with water for them (Steve’s in a sippy cup, of course). They make short work of the pizza, Steve eating most of it and Bucky letting him. They lean back against the headboard once Bucky’s gotten the sauce wiped off Steve’s hands and face despite his vigorous protests, and cuddle as they start watching a rerun block of _Brooklyn Nine-Nine_ episodes. Halfway through, Steve starts to squirm, and just as the last commercial beak hits, he suddenly relaxes.

“Good timing, buddy,” Bucky informs him, detaching himself to grab a towel from the bathroom and supplies from the diaper bag.

“Hmm?” Steve stares up at him as if he has no idea what Bucky’s talking about.

“You need a change.”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Yes, you do.”

“Don’t!”

“Then you won’t mind if I check you, yeah?” Before Steve can answer, Bucky reaches down and unzips his onesie to find that the diaper’s wetness indicator has changed color. “Lie down on this towel for me and we can make it quick, okay?”

Steve blushes at getting busted so easily, but he does as Bucky asks and becomes preoccupied with his pacifier as he’s being changed, curling into Bucky’s side once it’s done.

At the end of the second episode, he asks, “Daddy, can we read?”

“Sure we can, Stevie.” Bucky smiles. He thinks he might love reading to Steve as much as Steve loves being read to. “What book do you want?”

“Pooh Bear?” Steve says hopefully.

“I think I have a few stories we haven’t read yet. Can you hand me the tablet and I’ll look?”

“Yuh huh!” Steve _loves_ being helpful, even in the smallest of ways.

Bucky scrolls through his downloaded books until he finds what he’s looking for and finds their place. Steve rearranges himself so that he’s now sitting in Bucky’s lap with his blanket, and Bucky wraps his left arm around Steve’s waist as he begins to read.

They get all the way to the very end of the compendium, which turns out to also be good timing, because Steve’s yawning now and Bucky’s feeling like he could do with an early bedtime himself. They’d planned to go to the National Steinbeck Museum in the morning before heading south to spend a few days in Los Angeles, and Bucky wants to make sure he’s fit to drive.

Bucky pats his shoulder. “I think it’s bedtime, lovebug.”

Steve must be sleepier than he’d thought, because instead of complaining, he nods sleepily and allows Bucky to lead him into the bathroom to take his nighttime medicine and brush his teeth. Bucky does the same for himself once he’s satisfied that Steve’s now ready for bed, and when they’re done, Bucky puts his tablet on the charger and sets an alarm for 7:00. He slides under the covers next to Steve and pulls him close.

“I had a nice day with you,” he tells Steve, rubbing his back and enjoying the warmth of his body so close.

“But…” Steve swallows audibly. “We hadda leave early.”

“Yeah, we did. But we also got to have breakfast together and see all the different animals and get in plenty of cuddle time. I’d say that’s a nice day. Wouldn’t you?”

“Really?”

“Yeah, really, Stevie.”

Steve buries his face in Bucky’s neck, snuggling even closer as he makes a happy little noise.

“What did you like best at the aquarium?”

“Penguins. They’re funny.”

“They were really neat,” Bucky agrees, and he kisses Steve’s forehead because it’s the only part of him he can really reach at the moment.

Steve yawns again, this time so hard that his whole body vibrates. “Sleepytime, Daddy?”

“Yep, sleepytime. Love you to the moon and back, baby.” Bucky kisses his forehead again.

“Love you too, Daddy. Lots and lots.”

The next morning, he wakes up not because his alarm goes off but because Steve literally throws a paper bag containing what feels like a breakfast sandwich at him.

“What the fuck?”

Steve’s in his running gear, drenched in sweat, grinning down at him. “Rise and shine. It’s almost seven.”

“I hate you, Rogers.”

Steve produces the biggest to-go cup of coffee that Bucky’s ever seen and waves it under his nose. “Even though I brought you _this_?”

“I hate you a little less.” Bucky grabs at the cup and drinks a good quarter of it in a long gulp.

“How about now?”

“Slightly less. And not much at all if you didn’t get a fucking onion bagel for once in your life.”

“I got us egg and cheese croissants.”

“…I think I might keep you after all.”


End file.
